Unfortunately, the Haitian people have everything to lose
They are very fragile, humiliated, vilified, and abused
My people have been suffering for years, for centuries
On the pavement, in the streets, in the harbor and on the high seas.
Our people, our brothers and sisters!
Their wicked leaders once in power, the liars
Change all plans to the detriment of the poor
Who are quickly forgotten in the filthy cans
Their spleen, sweat and blood flow are floating in the sewers
They are despised by hens,
By guinea fowls, by roosters, and all types of demons
It was yesterday that they were applauding like dummies,
Cheering, hoping to be awarded with crumbs and pennies.
These zealous brothers are on fire, they are now deaf and crazy
at the end. Even patience has borders and boundaries
Where greedy, covetous and corrupt officials behave like evil yeasts.
Copyright © January 23, 2016 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved
Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Fierce updrafts surge, the wild winds rise,
And hurl the drops to freezing skies.
The ice and hail will smash and pack,
Inside the towering thunder-back.
Collisions strip the charges bare,
As static tension rips the air.
Light crystals float to upper height,
While heavy graupel sinks like night.
Sparks zigzag down, a leader low,
Stepping below a ghostly glow.
The fields skyrocket, voltages soar,
To crack the sky and strike the floor.
Sudden awaking, the earth responds,
A surge of power breaks its bonds.
The trees and towers stretch and strain,
To thrust their streamers through the rain.
The channels splice and circuits close,
A blinding flash of lightning glows.
Volt-ignited, the atmosphere
Roars as the thunder shakes the sphere.
Few people have this God-given gift
Few leaders have this Great Divine lift
Let’s put and keep ourselves together
Let’s gather and assemble the marbles in the center
Let’s keep and hold our head high in the air
Happiness and hope are up there
Few people demonstrate common sense
Few leaders possess good sound sense
Seasons come and go; time comes and goes
And never returns. Let’s stop staring at our toes
Happy and auspicious times are around the corner
Never give up. God is the Supreme Master
He is the only One
And there is only One
Few people possess this God-given lift
Few leaders are blessed with this Great Divine gift.
Copyright © May 2026 Hébert Logerie. All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books.
Loved by the many within their own state,
Loathed by the few who agitate from the gate.
A pattern repeated, a tale overplayed,
A judgement delivered before facts are weighed.
To the in-state, a father – steadfast and wise,
To the out-state, a tyrant in disguise.
A chronic affliction the Middle East knows,
A fever that silently festers and grows,
A contagion now Africa silently grows.
From Iran to Yemen, where old embers flame,
Through Libya to Uganda – the script stays the same.
From Burkina Faso and others whose names fill the scroll,
Branded rebellious by powers that patrol.
To more nations yet named in the fray,
Rebellious, dangerous – so headlines will say.
Declared by the US with sanctioning tone,
Echoed by the UN from its towering throne.
And others who gather where verdicts are spun,
Crowning a villain when politics is done.
Condemned in chambers where distant flags fly,
While praised at home beneath their own sky.
Rest in Peace: Ali Khamenei, Muammar Gaddafi and many others.
Ultimately, only my sister can decide whether to let them know or they should be let known that she’s in a deep hole mentally trying to do her dissertation proposal. We are strongly advising she does something to help herself. Course leaders can only empathise if they know what's going on for students.
I’ve been giving silly solutions to her struggles – stopping for the day and giving our parents piercings, stopping for a day and emailing Mrs Coventry inviting her to Binley Mega Chippy in Coventry. The spring rolls there truly are MEGA.
Lucky me is just looking forward to getting my chicken on a bike tattoo with my self-drawn sweet, the only assignments I’ve got being ones I give myself. My current assignment is chilling waiting for my Jasmine Rice to cook as I write this, a katsu curry and carrot cupcakes already made.
When she’s working and studying and working, my sister often doesn’t have the chance to eat. She’s just got her laptop – hopefully she’s going to send that email. That email will be the only thing she needs for them to grant her a break from going down.
I recal a man called boris, he came
Across most honest' said one death
And all.? Well it made him most appalled'
Then a little later he cried.' Who cares if
The dead are piled up so high.' After this
Then came battles in Ukraine, then peace
Started threatening war hardware and much gain.' Boris was soon underway.'
To put a stop to such peace; heresay..Maybe you have too like
Me heard much.?? Well similar and cry
Tears like a sea.' No i'm not for killing
And murder most food.' In fact i'm able
To observe, to see how cast in stone
Is the 'word often hurled by bad actors
In the world, most politic'y.)
Our world leaders bar none
(vultures each and every one)
are no more than hypocrites
if their talks are doves of peace
(they say it's purely politics)
why let fly the hawks of war
dropping bombs from drones
reducing towns to rubble
people blood and bones
bringing in the carrion crow
when will it ever end
who's to gauge assuage or know
as that (coal mine) canary
died oh so long ago
Ten long years in jail for petty theft at a bus stop,
While leaders steal in billions with a wrist-slap.
A man wore the hangman’s noose for armed robbery,
Yet a governor earned honours for a pen robbery.
Citizens bled by taxes to please Bretton Woods,
Loans secured not for growth but to fatten pockets.
When the people protest, police scatter them with contempt,
And soldiers fire bullets to silence their voices.
Black ink scrawls draconian laws on tyrant’s tables,
Threats and punishments stitched to entrench their power.
But such laws befriend only ephemerality,
Before the masses seize the reins of their rulers’ reign.
Mass anger drove Rajapaksa out of Sri Lanka,
Gen Z rose in Nepal against a media ban.
Burkina Faso’s streets toppled Compaoré,
And Egypt’s squares forced Mubarak to resign.
The people’s voice will always drown draconian laws;
Chains that glitter at first soon corrode into rust.
The rulers may feast while the nation starves in silence,
But shackles will break—the storm leaves none untouched.
Been around the world
seen some strange sights in my time
and looking back
my favourite is a roadway sign
of yellow and black
viewed in the U.S.A.
which read
(intellectually challenged?)
'SLOW CHILDREN AT PLAY'
Been around the world
seen some strange sights in my time
and looking back
my favourite is a roadway sign
of yellow and black
viewed in the U.S.A.
which read
(intellectually challenged?)
'SLOW CHILDREN AT PLAY'
The emperors have no clothes on!
People are living in a trance
Psychologists like to call it cognitive dissonance
Perhaps even a carefully crafted chance
To see what isn't there, only to praise a hollow show,
While truth and reason disappear, common senses go.
It’s just simply a situation gone sad
I can’t help but wonder, have we been had or merely gone mad
The people fear to break the silent spell, to voice a single doubt
For they are to be canceled, labeled rebels or terrorists, and quickly cast about
Instead, they applaud the phantom apparel, with oblivious, hypnotic cheer,
Ignoring empathetic whispers in their hearts, that scream truth so clear.
But chatty whispers grow to rumbling cries, a stirring overcomes the digital crowd,
Suddenly, an innocent video, goes viral, distinct and loud.
"The emperors have no clothes on!"
An echo filmed of pure bravery
Hopefully, others will follow, setting truths to be viral and free
Reject conformity and fight for sovereignty
For all to hear and see
The emperors have no clothes on!
From ashes of pain, true leaders rise,
Forged in struggle’s unyielding cries.
Yet now, from gilded thrones of greed,
False prophets spawn, with lies they breed.
They weave deceit, a cunning art,
To hijack souls and rend the heart.
Using hired blades and looted dimes,
They buy men to side their evil dreams
Behind a flag, their falsehoods creep,
While nation bleeds and victims weep.
they wear a tearful mask in public to trap
They toast with scorn still pretend saints ,
They preach of pride, to draw borders red,
holding nationalism drawing swords ,
With gods they raise divisive flags,
demanding more blood for their political zigzags.
Their minions sow yet viler lies,
To reap the votes that death devise.
As tears cascade through broken towns,
They laugh on stages holding cruel schemes.
We are here sorrowfully happy
We are here crying and smiling
We are Rich only on TV
We are Rich only on newspapers.
Where are they says the leaders
Give them the remnants to eat
They deserves a natural glass of wine
And something to take as protein.
We are here living happily happy
With our swollen faces smiling
Lest we appear wretched on TV
Wearing rags with tissue papers.
Cleaning the toilets of our leaders
Inorder to afford bread to eat
We drank their pee as wine
And ate their poop for protein.
Obscenity in action, with trusted land managment out of
Action..The la la la landers.' With blisterless hands.' Set
Overgrowth conditions.' It could not be worse if planned.'
After bushfires have raveged.' They decide 'to kill' at least
Seven hundred Koalas..It gives me the chills.' Riding in
Helicopters.' Clinical and cold.' The result of a green plan
That is now overly bold.' Things must change.' And for the
Better.' Get local farmers involved their 'lore not of the letter' yet drawn from the love of that place where i have
Walked.' From generational learning.' Listen as we aught.'
Yet there is focus on new buildings and unesco rules..
These Koalas now the sacrifice.' For no doubt 'convid era
Initiatve leading fools.!!
So much hate
Such is fate
I look around
Hear the bugle sound
Hearts are bound
Let freedom ring
To whom do we sing
Far to the left, far to the right
But it's in the middle we fight
By strength we unite
Ruled by the iron hand
Demanding we all march in that band
Enthusiastically cheering nothing at all
We must build our wall
Or we surely shall fall
Leaderless leaders leading the blind
All are afraid to be left behind
dont know what they want
Votes they taunt
Where are we going
I'm not in the knowing
Uncertainty in the forecast
Common sense fading fast
Can only hope it doesn't last
Come tomorrow
Pride I may have to borrow
Cuts here cuts there
Hey that ain't fair
Shake my head and stare
Who knows what comes in next
But we shall read about it in some text
All a late night drama show
All I know
As the stomach turns
The world burns
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